It happened that as he made his
way toward Jerusalem, he crossed over the border between Samaria and Galilee.
As he entered a village, ten men, all lepers, met him. They kept their distance
but raised their voices, calling out, “Jesus, Master, have mercy on us!” Taking
a good look at them, he said, “Go, show yourselves to the priests.”
They went, and while still on
their way, became clean. One of them, when he realized that he was healed,
turned around and came back, shouting his gratitude, glorifying God. He kneeled
at Jesus’ feet, so grateful. He couldn’t thank him enough — and he was a
Samaritan. Jesus said, “Were not ten healed? Where are the nine? Can none be
found to come back and give glory to God except this outsider?” Then he said to
him, “Get up. On your way. Your faith has healed and saved you.” (Luke
17:11-19)
It’s a tribute to
modern medicine that most of us, fortunately, don’t know much about leprosy. In
fact, for many of us, what we know about the disease we only know from what we’ve
read in the Bible. But if we had lived during those times, we probably would
have known a whole lot more because it was the most feared disease in its time.
It was deadly, incurable and hopeless. The ancients feared it so much that
anyone suspected of having the disease was banished from society. In fact, in
the rabbinic writings of the time, there are remedies for all kinds of diseases,
but there’s nothing listed for leprosy. The rabbis said that curing leprosy was
like “raising the dead.”
So, there’s Jesus, traveling
near the border of Samaria and Galilee, and it’s there where he meets a group
of lepers. We don’t know precisely where this encounter took place because you can’t
even find the small town on a map. But it was somewhere south of Nazareth and north
of Sychar.
And it’s no surprise
that Jesus would encounter these unfortunate men between Galilee and Samaria.
Galilee was Jesus’ home base. He was raised there. He had family and boyhood
friends there. He made his headquarters at Capernaum on the shores of the Sea
of Galilee. Most of his miracles, and much of his teaching, was done in
Galilee. It was the land of his greatest popularity. But Samaria? Well, that
was another matter altogether.
You see, observant Jews avoided Samaria at almost all costs.
The story goes back hundreds of years to the Assyrian captivity which began in
722 B.C. Some of the Jewish people had intermarried with the Assyrians and had
become, in the eyes of their former countrymen, half-breeds and traitors. In
other words, they were unclean. Over the centuries, then, the Samaritans had
become a mixed race with a mixed religion. The Jewish people hated the
Samaritans, and the Samaritans’ feelings were mutual.
And it’s here, on the
frontier between Galilee and Samaria, in the DMZ between the Jews and the
Samaritans, that Jesus meets ten lepers. And, frankly, where else could they
go? The Jews didn’t want them, and neither did the Samaritans. So, here’s a
colony of lepers joined by their common misfortune and misery. Their only
uniting characteristic is the foul disease that had cast them out of society. And,
as Jesus enters the village, these men stand a long way off and cry out to him
for mercy.
Apparently, word had spread.
"He’s here,” said one of the lepers. “Who’s here?” said the other. “Jesus
of Nazareth,” said the first. “Naw, I don’t believe it,” said his friend. “It’s
true. He’s really here,” said the first. “Do you think he could heal us?” said another.
“I don’t know. But let’s find out.” So, there they stand, the most ragged choir
in all of Israel – ten lepers crying out to Jesus for mercy. “Have mercy. Have
Mercy,” came the cry from lips that had seen too little mercy, and too much
condemnation.
So, what’s Jesus’
response? Will he heal them right then and there on the spot? That was
certainly within his power, and no doubt was what the lepers had probably hoped
he would do. But, instead, Jesus said something that, well … seems a little unexpected.
When he saw them, he said to them, “Go
and show yourselves to the priests.”
Now, at first glance,
you might think that Jesus was simply putting them off. You might even think that
he didn’t intend to heal them at all. And if you were to come to that
conclusion, you could probably infer that Jesus meant to impress upon them the utter
hopelessness of their condition. But all of those inferences would be wrong. As
a matter of fact, Jesus fully intended to heal them, but he also intended to do
it in keeping with the demands of the Law of Moses. You see, if Jesus hadn’t
sent the lepers to the priest, no one would have ever believed that the miracle
had really taken place.
But that’s not the
whole story here. The last part of verse 14 says that “They went, and while still on their way, became clean.”
In other words, they were healed as
they went to go see the priest. Not before. Not after. That means that when
they left to go see the priest, they still had leprosy. Now how do you suppose
they felt when Jesus said, “Go show yourselves to the priest?” Go show what to the priest? That they were still
lepers? Really? They didn’t have anything to show the priest that the priest wanted
to see. In fact, the last thing the priest wanted to see was ten smelly,
disheveled and deformed lepers. In fact, I wonder if one of them may have even
said, “Why bother? After all, once a leper, always a leper.” But off they went,
this shuffling band of sufferers marching off to see the priest, perhaps doubting
their healing the entire way.
They take one step; they’re
still lepers. They take two steps; nothing happens. They take a third step; the
leprosy still clings to their skin. But on that fourth step, or maybe the
fifth, or maybe the hundredth, something wonderful, something unbelievable,
something they never dreamed possible happened. With that next step, they were
healed. Instantly. Miraculously. All ten. All at once. They were healed as they
went. Not before. Not after. But in
the act of going they were healed. Why? Because it was the act of going
that was an act of their faith. And it didn’t matter how they felt about it.
God honored their going in spite of what may have been some pretty serious doubts
along the way.
Like the lepers, our faith moves mountains when our faith moves us.
When Jesus said, “Go show yourselves to the priest,” he was really saying, “Act
as if you’re already healed.” What a great piece of advice. So many times we
pray and pray and pray and nothing seems to happen. But when our faith, shaky though
it may be, finally moves us to action, God honors it and answers begin to come.
Unfortunately, too many of us are trapped by the curse of
passive religion. You know what that is, don’t you? It’s the view that
says trusting God means letting him do it all. So, for instance, we pray,
“Lord, I need money,” but we refuse to go out and look for a job. Passive
religion uses God as an excuse to do nothing. But trusting God does not equal doing nothing. Remember: the ten
lepers were healed as they went. It’s a marvelous miracle, but it’s not the end
of the story. Because another miracle is about to happen.
Ten were healed and
only one came back to give thanks. Luke says he fell on his face before the
Lord. He’s been healed of leprosy. For who knows how many years he’s been a
leper living in his remote, little corner of the world, separated from his
family, forgotten by his friends, cut off from his own people. But, suddenly,
the disease vanishes and with it the twisted limp, the crooked fingers and the
atrophied muscles.
Then Luke adds, “He
was a Samaritan.” The shock and amazement in that statement is such that we
ought to read it this way: “Think of it! A Samaritan of all people!” Remember,
Jesus was a Jew and the Jews thought Samaritans were half-breeds and traitors.
To make matters worse, he was a Samaritan and
a leper. To a Jew, you couldn’t find a
more repulsive combination. He was from the wrong race, with the wrong
religion, and the worst-possible disease. In religious speak, this Samaritan
knew almost nothing, and what he knew was mostly wrong. But he knew Jesus had
healed him, and he knew enough to be thankful to God.
Now, Luke doesn’t say
so directly, but I think he may have also been insinuating that the other nine
were Jews. And if that’s true, then what this story really means is that those
who should have been the most thankful weren’t; and the one man who shouldn’t
have come back did. And this story pictures life as it is. It’s a picture of
the abundant grace of God. This is a wholesale cure – a whole hospital’s healed
with only a word. Ten at a time. It’s a huge miracle. It’s also a picture of the
prevalence of ingratitude. Nine out ten people will probably forget every
blessing that they’ve ever received. But it’s also a picture of unexpected
grace. Grateful hearts, it seems, pop up where you least expect them.
Jesus then asks the
Samaritan three questions. “Were not ten healed? Yes. “Where are the nine?” Gone. Can
none be found to come back and give glory to God except this outsider?” No
one. And if you listen carefully, you can even
sense a tinge of sadness in Jesus’ voice. He wanted to know about the others.
Where are they? Weren’t they healed? Why didn’t they come back and say, “Thank
You"? Good question. So, why didn’t they come back?
Well, maybe they were
in a hurry to see the priest. Or, maybe they thought Jesus would be gone when
they got back. Perhaps they assumed Jesus knew how grateful they were and they
didn’t need to tell him what he already knew. I mean, he’s God after all. Or, maybe
they were just too busy. So where are they now? Gone off with their blessings. Gone
to see the priest. Gone to see their families. Gone with no word of thanks. Gone.
But when you really look
at these ten lepers, they’re all alike aren’t they? All had leprosy. All were
outcasts from society. All were determined to do something about it. All had
heard about Jesus and believed he could help them. All appealed to him. All
obeyed his word. All were healed. So, on the surface they appear to be identical.
Yet what a difference. One returned. Nine went on. One was thankful. Nine were
not. One man found forgiveness. Nine didn’t. One man got two miracles. Nine got
one. All ten were healed. (That’s one miracle) But the Samaritan was healed and
forgiven. (That’s two miracles) And I think that’s what Jesus meant when he said
to the one, “Your faith has made you well.”
So, the question
remains: “Where are the nine?” The answer is they got what they wanted and then
promptly left the building. Jesus performed a mighty miracle for them and they
said, “Thanks, Lord. We can take it from here.” Sadly, that kind of attitude can still be found today. The reason? Because
we have so little appreciation for what God has done for us. We just don’t love
the Lord that much, or just not enough to express gratitude for his blessings.
But isn’t gratitude and thankfulness the highest duty
of the believer and the supreme virtue – the fountain from which all other
blessings flow? Yes. But its corollary, ingratitude, or thanklessness, is the
leprosy of the soul. It eats away from the inside. It destroys our
happiness, cripples our joy, withers our compassion, paralyzes our praise and
renders us completely numb to all the blessings of God.
Every good thing in the Christian life flows from gratitude, or
thankfulness. And when we realize the goodness of
God – not in the abstract or in the theoretical, but personally – then we are free
to go, free to pray, free to tell, free to do, free to be. We don’t need to be
coerced. We don’t need to be pressured. When we can finally look and see what
God has done …. When we can count our many blessings and name them one by one .…
When we can understand that every good and perfect gift comes down from the
Father above .… When we can see that life itself comes gift-wrapped from on
high …. When we know, really know, that all of life is God’s grace … then we
begin to praise; we begin to give; we begin to sing; we begin to tell; we begin
to serve; we begin to enter into the “Abundant Life.”
When we finally
understand that we were born lepers, and then we see what Jesus has done for us,
and when it finally breaks through that only by the grace of God do we have
anything valuable at all, only then does life really begin to change. At that
point, wonderful things begin to happen to us. What was duty is now privilege. What
was law is now grace. What was demanded is now volunteered. What was forced is
now free. What was drudgery is now joy. What was taken for granted is now offered
up in praise to God. When it finally breaks through to us, then we come running
to Jesus, just like the leper.
Ten men were healed
that day, but only one came back to give thanks. Which one are you? Far too many of us take our blessings for
granted and groan about duties. But it doesn’t have to be that way. Praise
is a choice. A thankful heart is a choice. No one is forced into bitterness.
You choose the way you live. The one who returned to give thanks chose not to
forget what Jesus had done for him. The secret of a thankful heart is making a
conscious choice not to forget what God has done – for each of us.
Grace,
Randy
No comments:
Post a Comment